Female Novel
Chapter 195
Chapter 195
“Stephie…” I’d barely hung up the phone when Steven started his act.
“Ow, it hurts.” Steven raised his hand to show me the wound on his wrist.
I suspected that he’d caught wind of my chat with Yasmin and was now scheming to stop me fromleaving.
“Didn’t the doctor take care of it?” I held Steven’s wrist and glanced at it. “Why would hurt yourselfwhen you know it’s painful?”
With a hint of sadness in his eyes, Steven whispered, “Stephie, how about we move out and livesomewhere else?”
He didn’t want me to stay at the Lincoln residence any longer and preferred to leave Ignatius thereto fend for himself.
“We’ve got a place.” He gazed at me with determination, wanting to convey to me that
this was our home.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts and glanced around.
Not only were the flowers in the yard ones I loved, but even the room decorations were tailored tomy preferences.
It appeared that he had truly been making continuous efforts all this while to create a
home with me.
“Steve… This villa is expensive. Did you buy it or rent it?” I asked suspiciously.
Steven’s eyes shifted slightly. “I rented it…” novelbin
I nodded in agreement. “If you don’t want to go back to the Lincoln residence, we’ll stay here.”
Steven was the heir of the Lincoln family. Of course, he could easily afford the rent with
the monthly trust payment.
Finally happy, Steven didn’t seem to be feeling any pain from his wound anymore.
“Your foot and calf injuries haven’t fully healed yet. If you keep hurting yourself, I’ll leave you.” Itried to make him heed my warning by threatening to leave.
Sure enough, Steven was terrified.
He nervously glanced at me and the leave…”
“Then stop hurting yourself.”
puned
Steven remained silent and simply held me tight, unwilling to loosen his grip.
“I’m going out tonight. Just stay home and get some rest. I’ll come straight here to be with you whenI get back,” I whispered, trying to reassure him.
I hadn’t yet remembered much about my time with Steven, but the memories of our childhoodmeeting felt like they were deeply affecting me.
If Steven and the orphanage were really that significant to me, why did I specifically forget aboutthem?
Yasmin was also from the orphanage.
And in my memories, the girl who admired my dress must have been the late Mandy.
Yasmin, on the other hand, was the girl who always followed Mandy. She’d looked weak, but she’dcoldly watch and even find joy in others‘ misfortune.
Ever since she was a child, Yasmin always had a mean streak in her.
On our way back, I questioned Howard about the time when Stephanie was bullied by some boysfor wearing a red dress.
Based on my recollection, Howard wasn’t part of the event and didn’t initiate the tearing of myclothes.
Howard responded, “Back then, Stephanie’s father was in talks with Mr. Hanks about funding theorphanage while his own daughter was getting bullied there.
“Later, Mr. Hanks punished Steven and those who bullied Stephanie, but Yasmin was the only onewho wasn’t implicated.”
This indicated that Yasmin had always been a clever person who was skilled at stirring up
trouble from a young age.
“Stephie! I’m in so much pain.” Steven suddenly gripped my hand tighter. “Stephie, don’t leave.Stay with me, please?”
I looked at Steven suspiciously.
Chapter 195
Did he overhear my phone call, or did he have a sense of what might happen later?
“Steve, I have to go out.” I wanted to uncover the truth and reclaim my memories. I couldn’t justreacquaint myself with Steven again so naively.
It wouldn’t be fair to Steven, nor to myself.
“Stephie, I’m thirsty.” Steven changed the topic.
So, I could only go and get him some water.
But as soon as I stepped away, Steven’s gaze dropped to my phone screen.
It was showing Michael’s name on the caller ID.
Without hesitation, Steven blocked the call.
Steven’s villa was massive, yet there wasn’t a nanny in sight.
Steven wasn’t fond of having people around, so there was only an old butler named Leo Hart whohelped him with the yard work outside.
After fetching him some warm water, I brought it into the room.
That’s when I noticed Steven was having a fever.
He was curled up in bed and couldn’t be bothered to cover himself with a blanket.
I was worried.
How did he survive all these years with such poor self–care skills?
“Stephie…” I wanted to get him a thermometer, but Steven grabbed my wrist and pulled me ontothe bed, holding me tight in his arms.
Even though he was sick, he was still very strong.